


Reading John Cleland

by orphan_account



Category: Beauty and the Beast (Disney) (1991)
Genre: Books, F/M, Furry, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-02
Updated: 2009-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-07 21:33:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle lets the Beast know what she wants, and he delivers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reading John Cleland

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Oxoniensis' porn battle #7. My first time writing any kind of furry fic. Oh dear...

He had grown used to her arm on his, but when she pressed her body against his on the soft carpet before the fireplace his response was a shudder that went all through his great body. As she had trembled before his roar, he now trembled at her touch. She smiled and then laughed to remember how frightened she'd been. She snuggled closer to him, burying her face in the rough fur of bull-like neck, her arm half-way around his chest, and waited for him to relax, as she knew he would.

The next night, as he was reading to her from the same book, she complained of a backache, and laid herself on her back on the carpet. She smiled her wickedest smile at him as she raised one knee, showing a tantalizing stretch of leg that would have had most men in her village proposing on the spot. He fixed his eyes on the book and continued reading, if only in a halting voice. She sighed and clambered up to sit through the rest of the story, which at least was very good, though it did not help her mood.

On the third night, she took the book from his hands, climbed into his lap, and kissed his lower lip. His mouth was not made for kissing, but this was as clear as she could make her intention without pulling up her skirts, and that, she felt, might have had him in an apoplexy.

He breathed her name, a deep rumble that made her skin tingle where once it had crawled. He put his enormous hands – paws? - on her waist, so gentle she almost could have forgotten the strength they possessed.

'I want you,' she whispered, in case there was any more doubt.

His touch tightened, almost bruising her, and shifting her hips, she could feel his member grow. It was enough to make her whimper with desire. She balanced herself on his lap and reached to the back of her dress to undo the laces. He pushed her hands away to undo them himself, awkwardly, his nails scratching her back, though she was sure he did not realize. 'Rip it,' she said, impatient, and after a moment he did. Her breasts fell free from their confines, and she could breath.

Shivering, but not for fear, she stood up and let the dress fall off her. She wriggled out of her petticoats and stood before him, naked and wanting. He took his claws to his own clothes, and soon they lay in shreds around them. He paced on all fours before the fireplace, his member emerging long and pink from his fur. Her parts grown wet and ready for him long ago, she fell on her fours, too, turned around, and presented him with her sex.

He climbed over her. His fur tickled her back, and his slick bald member lay moist against her buttocks. His breathing rumbled like a low growl or the purring of a gigantic cat. She murmured encouragements, mad for this love-making, panting and in heat. She moved her hips against his member until he finally reached down and, with a grunt, guided himself inside her.

The tip went in first, and it spread her so wide and so open she almost screamed. She pushed back anyway, and oh, the pressure inside her, the length of him, the majestic power of him - it was all she'd imagined and more. She could look up and see his face, twisted in an expression of adoration, of bliss, moving back and forth like a rider on a horse, sweat on his lip – or like the horse, muscles undulating, working. His paws were set on the carpet on each side of her, and she wrapped her arms around his front legs, and pushed back, and pushed back again until he was as far in as he could go, and she told him so with a yelp. He pulled back, an pushed back in again, and the library seemed to explode with stars.

He fucked her, violence on the edge of each gentle pull, love at the root of each violent thrust.

The fourth night, they dispensed with the book.


End file.
